Siren's Song
by moonlight80
Summary: The guys are in "Nowheresville, Wyoming" to check out a string of drownings in the nearby lake while Dean is struggling with a cold. Sounds routine enough, right? This story takes place early in the first season I forgot the disclaimer but they aren't min
1. Chapter 1

"Dude, pull over and let me drive. You almost sneezed us into a tree!" Sam gripped the door on his side of the car for dear life and gave his brother a frightened, yet somehow very pissed off look.

Dean scowled at him and kept driving. "I told you, I'm fine. It's only allergies." he sniffled and rubbed at his nose, which was tickling again.

"A sneeze is a sneeze, i don't care what you say it's from. And since when do you have allergies?"

"Since I started road tripping with my annoying, punkass little brother, that's when. I've found that the more time I spend around you, the crappier I feel in general, how's that for a good answer?"

Sam gave his brother a very dirty look before grasping for the dashboard. "Dean! Tree! God!"

Dean sniffled again and touched his forehead. "Sam, I didn't even come close to hitting that tree. Calm down, will you?"

"Let me drive and I'll be more than happy to be perfectly calm." Sam let out the breath that he was only vaguely aware that he'd been holding when Dean pulled into a gas station.

"We're running on empty and we're almost to the lake. Don't think this means I'm letting you drive." Dean sneezed several times before climbing out of the car to fuel up.

"Anything you say, you're the boss..." Sam muttered as he moved into the driver's seat.

Dean looked up from his task. "Oh no. No, Sam, get out." He left his station and walked purposefully to the driver's side door. "Come on, move."

Sam grinned and held up the keys. "You gonna make me? I have you at a disadvantage."

Dean smacked the door in frustration. "I swear to God, Sam, sometimes..." He sighed as the pump switched off. "this isn't over." He replaced the pump handle, then rested his hand on the fueling station as a coughing fit over-took him. When he'd finished he grabbed a handful of coarse paper towels that were meant to wipe off car windshield wipers. He climbed into the passenger seat. "Fine, you drive."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Paper?"

"Huh?"

"You said you were going to pick up a paper, see if anyone else has met the same end as the other five guys last week. Go do it. And, " he pulled the towels out of Dean's hand and tossed them in the back seat, "buy some real tissues and some cold meds."

"Look who decided to take charge all of the sudden. I'm going, I'm going." Dean got out of the car and stuffed his hands into his pockets, hunching his shoulders as if he were cold. He tossed his tissues and cold medicine on the counter and smiled charmingly at the cashier. "Can I get change for a dollar with this? I need to get a..." He turned around and sneezed into his elbow. "Scuse me."

The young woman smiled back. "God bless you. Your total is $18.98."

"Wait, for Kleenex and cough medicine?!" He fairly yelped.

She laughed warmly as she nodded and took his twenty. She handed him back his change, complete with quarters. "That's the price you pay for getting sick in the sticks." She moved her long brown hair off from her shoulder, showing her name tag.

Dean went into full flirt mode. "Sparrow, huh? Like the bird?"

She nodded and laughed again. "My mother has a thing for birds. She loves them. My sister's name is Robin. She was the lucky one. At least there are a lot of girls actually named Robin out there"

He jumped as he heard his car horn blare. "My brother's not a patient person. See you around, Sparrow. thanks for the over priced cold paraphernalia and the quarters."

"Welcome. Hope you enjoy your stay." Dean didn't see it, but her eyes glowed a bit as she watched him leave.

He tossed the paper and the bag through the open window before getting in himself. "Nineteen bucks! Twenty if you count the paper."

Sam whistled softly. "For that price, it had better cure your cold overnight."

This time, Dean didn't deny that he had a cold, he only shook his head. "Dayquil and Kleenex. Basic essentials for the stuff. I did get the extra soft ones, though."

Sam nodded, still less than impressed with the prices. "How much for the paper?"

"Same price... for yesterday's news, Goddammit!"

"The obits aren't normally wrong or anything, so chill. We should find you a place to crash, really. I can take this case. You can do the book work for once. At least until you're over this."

"It's a cold Sammy. I'm not dying or anything like that."

"Sam, it's Sam. And i didn't say you were, I just thought it would be best if you rested up for a while. You know, slept it off and all that."

"I love how you're telling me to sleep. Somehow, it seems backward."

Sam rolled his eyes and drove farther down the one road that proved to cover the whole town. "I bet that's the only motel for miles." He pointed and pulled into a place that looked as if it would be right at home in Hitchcock film.

"And a right homey place it is too." Dean opened the door and followed his brother into the main office. "If there's one guy there and he checks us into cabin 1, we're leaving."

"Shut up." Sam hissed as an older man met them at the counter. "Single or double?" He hardly even looked up.

"Um, double, please." Sam always sounded rather nervous about this part. "Do you take credit?"

The man nodded once and took the card without even glancing at the name. He put two keys on the counter. "Cabin 13, at the end."

"13, even better." Dean quipped easily as they headed back to the car.

"You go inside, I'll unload."

"Like hell you will, I'm not that bad, I swear, Sammy." Dean grabbed his overnight bag and unlocked the door. "It even looks like the Bates Motel."


	2. Chapter 2

-1Siren's Song Chapter 2

Disclaimer: (And this goes for the first chapter as well) The characters aren't mine, I made no money from this bit of fan fiction.

Dean finished a rather bad sounding coughing fit then flopped down on the hotel bed and rubbed his nose with a very well used tissue.

"You know Dean, we have more of those." Sam tossed the box onto his brother's bed and sat down next to him. He made a move to feel his forehead.

"Dude, no." Dean put up a hand to ward him off. "I'm fine. I'm not that sick, it's a cold."

"Yeah, last time you said it was nonexistent allergies. I don't think I'm going to be listening to you about your health any time soon."

Dean held out Sam's laptop. "Sit down and let's go over this case, will ya? If I feel any worse, you'll be the last one I tell, okay." He blew his nose on a fresh tissue, even though it looked as if it pained him to do it.

Sam peered at him in concern. "I thought you said you got the extra soft kind."

"At five plus bucks a box, they should go on the mantle as a work of art, not be used like this." He motioned to his rather pale face. "Now, enough about me, let's talk about these guys. Five guys on a fishing trip out in this lake all drown. But the boat hasn't been touched. It's not overturned or anything that shows that there were even five guys on that boat, except the life jackets, and they were in a jumbled heap, like they'd all been taken off before the guys went into the water."

Sam took a drink of coffee and held up a finger. "But," he started, after swallowing, "how do we know they didn't just get drunk or something and think it would be a good idea to go for a swim. Weirder things have happened, you know."

Dean nodded, his words hitching. "I thought that too, but this isn't the first time it's happened. Besides..." His voice trailed off and he raised his hand before sneezing five times into the crook of his elbow. "Goddamn cold." He blew his nose again. "Besides," he tried again, "they found the mangled corpses on an island. they were naked and all that creepy stuff." He sniffled and took some aspirin.

"Dean! How many have you had today? That stuff can screw with your liver if you aren't careful."

"Sam, can we focus here?" Dean sounded mildly annoyed, but set the aspirin bottle down. "People's lives are sort of on the line, you know."

"Yeah, yeah, but I'd rather not see you do anything to yourself, either." He read the news paper article from a week ago. "This says the drownings happened two weeks ago."

"What do you expect from news from Nowheresville Wyoming? I mean, the paper I bought today was already out of date. I don't think this place really matters too much. When did the first disappearance take place?" He sniffled and leaned against his pillows, closing his eyes, his head throbbing mercilessly. "Where the hell did I put that Dayquil?" Sitting up, he pawed around the bed, under the printed out news paper reports and used tissues.

"You are going to clean those up before you go to bed, aren't you?" Sam nodded at the crumpled Kleenexes in Dean's hand and scattered all over the bedspread.

"Yeah, I am. And I think I'm gonna have to go buy more before we're done here. Aha!" He found the Dayquil and took more than the recommended dosage.

"Dean? That stuff wasn't cheap." If he couldn't make Dean look out for his health, Sam could at least make him look out for his wallet. It would be a few days a the very least before Dean was up to hustling another guy at a game of pool and small, out of the way stores rarely took credit for smaller items. "The first drowning on record was a few years ago, and it was just one guy. There was alcohol found on the boat, so it seemed like a pretty open and shut case."

"Yeah, except I bet they left out the part where he was stark naked on the rocks." Dean sniffled and rubbed at his itching nose.

"Yeah, me too."

Sam was typing the name of the lake into his computer. When he'd found a good map of it, he frowned a bit. "Where were the bodies found again?" Dean tossed the most recent used tissue into a waste basket before joining his brother again. "Dude, hand sanitizer. I'd really rather not have your germs, thank you very much."

"Sammy, you hurt my soul. Here I was thinking that we shared everything." He shook his head, smiling. "You got any?"

"Huh? Yeah, in my coat pocket." Sam didn't look up from his work.

"You are such a chick, you know that?" Dean dug around in Sam's pocket until he found the small bottle. He helped himself to a handful and rubbed his hands together as he went to sit down. The sharp alcohol smell tickled his already sensitive nose and he sneezed a few times.

"Bless. Okay, so the bodies were found on an island, but I'm not sure what one. There are a few in this lake."

"We won't know for sure until we talk to the locals. See what went down before all this happened. The paper isn't a prompt or reliable source, as we can see." He snagged his coat. "You coming?" He blew his nose loudly and leaned against the wall.

"Dean, it's pretty late. Let's do that tomorrow. No one's gonna be out on the lake tonight. You should rest up a little."

"I know I should, but I need to go back to that store anyway. Much as it kills me, I'm gonna need more tissues."

Sam sighed and snagged his coat too. "Fine, but I drive and you don't get carried away grilling everyone you see there, deal?"

"Deal. You wanna shake on it?" He held out his hand playfully.

"With a walking germ factory? No way." Sam lead the way to the car and opened Dean's door for his brother.

"Dude, Sam, I'm not dying, my arm isn't broken and all that good stuff. I can open my own door."


	3. Chapter 3

-1Siren's Song part three

Disclaimer: The characters are not mine and I make no money from this.

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Sam laughed softly and shook his head. "Fine, I won't try to help you, then." Dean sniffled and blew his nose. "Jerk."

"Shut up, Bitch." His voice was muffled under his hands, but the meaning was very clear.

"Fine, shutting up. So, are we going back to that store?"

"Have to, it was the only one I saw here. Trust me, I was looking, too." Sam pulled the car into the parking lot and turned it off. "Okay, I'm gonna go get my Kleenexes, you stay out here and have some friendly chit chat with those guys over there."

"Wait, Dean, why do I... and you leave." Sam shrugged and went up to the three guys sitting at the table.

Dean snagged a few boxes of the tissues, wincing at the price. He glanced up and smiled. Sparrow was still there, and yeah, maybe he looked a little like crap, but he'd charmed prettier girls looking worse. He set the boxes down and cleared his throat. "So, we meet again. Sparrow, right?"

She started and turned around from the cigarette counter, which she'd been refilling. "Yeah, it seems we do. And it seems you know more about me, than I do about you. What's your name?" She kept her voice casual, yet somehow flirty.

"Oh, it's Dean. Pleasure to meet you." He held out his hand to shake hers, but pulled it back quickly. "Sorry, you don't want this crap. My brother's already freaking out about it." He looked around the shop and noticed a sign advertising boat rentals. "Hey, is this the lake those guys drown in?"

She looked up at him sharply. "Yeah, it is. Why?"

"Well, you rent boats here. I mean, I read that there were a lot of drownings on that lake. Doesn't that hurt business at all?" He leaned against the counter, ignoring her sudden change in demeanor.

She sighed softly and shook her head, going back to her old self. "No, no. Those guys were drunk at the time." She send it as calmly as if she was telling him the time.

"Really? I didn't read..."

"Look, I don't want to talk about this, okay. In a place like this everybody knows everybody, so it was sort of a shock, you know? This is where everyone goes when they don't want to drive three hours away to buy a loaf of bread, so I saw them all pretty much every day." Her voice shook convincingly.

Dean frowned. "Yeah, I get that. I'm sorry I brought it up, really. I'll just pay for my stuff and get out of your hair." He handed Sparrow another twenty and got a few dollars back, then left without saying good bye.

Sam trotted up to Dean as soon as he saw him come out of the store. "Hey, I was about to come find you. You are not going to believe what I found out."

Dean nodded, but held up his hand in a "wait" motion, then sneezed about ten times in a row.

"You done?" Sam sounded impatient.

"You know, most people say 'bless you' or something equally nice. Who taught you your manners?" 

"I'm looking at him. Now shut up and listen to what I'm about to tell you. You know the drownings that happened a few months ago? There was someone else there. This high school girl. They wouldn't tell me her name, but she told the cops that before the guys started to strip and jump into the lake, they started acting really weird. And talking about what beautiful music it was."

Dean shook his head, confused. "What was?"

"Exactly. She said she didn't hear anything and told them to take her back before they went looking for it."

"Well, did they?" Dean leaned gently against the hood of his car, not seeming to realize that it was getting colder.

Sam shook his head in an almost excited way. "No, she said they just started to take off their clothes, I know" he said as Dean opened his mouth to say that the papers had left that out all the times they read about it, "I was surprised too. I guess the obits wanted to leave them with some dignity. I mean, having your clothes ripped off by rocks or something is one thing, but taking them off yourself? Quite another. Anyway, they all jumped into the lake and just started to swim, even though they weren't really trying, they just said that they needed to find that music, then down they went."

"What music? What the hell are you talking about? Was she insane or something?"

"No, but everyone thought she was. Her own family checked her into a mental health facility when she couldn't get over it. That's why those guys wouldn't tell me who she was. Wanted to spare the family."

Dean let out a low whistle. "Wow, that's weird." He ran a hand through his hair. "You think she was telling the truth?"

"Dude, I know she was telling the truth. Let's go back to the motel and I'll show you why. Besides, you're shivering." He got into the car and started it up.

Dean got in, opened a box of Kleenex and blew his nose. "Can you tell me a little bit of why you think that girl's telling the truth at least?" He sniffled a bit.

"Unless I'm wrong, and I honestly don't think I am, that island has Sirens on it." Sam glanced at Dean, trying to gage his reaction.

"Sirens? As in the weirdo chicks who lured sailors to their deaths?" He sounded slightly incredulous.

"No, as in the things on top of emergency vehicles. Of course the other kind. I mean, think about it, the music that girl couldn't hear, the guys just jumping to their deaths, everything makes sense."

"I don't know, Sammy, that's really far fetched."

"It's Sam, and what do you mean, far fetched? How is this any more off the wall than ghosts and demons and all that good stuff?"

"It's Greek mythology, Sam. I mean, real mythology." He sniffled and closed his eyes.

"Yeah, but you're the one who's always saying that myths come from somewhere."

"I know, but mythology?!" He repeated the word, as if trying to stress to Sam exactly how crazy that sounded. "You gonna try to tell me that Zeus and Hera were real too?"

"We've seen weirder things, Dean. You know it and I know it." Sam's voice was firm. "At least let me try to prove it to you before you blow it off as a crazy idea."

Dean sniffled and blew his nose for what felt like the thousandth time that day. "Fine Sam, show me why you think this is Homer come to life."

Sam nodded as he turned the car into the parking lot. "I'm glad you see reason." He stopped teasing Dean as soon as he started to cough badly. Sam held back the urge to pat his shoulder. "You gonna live, Dean?" He tried to keep his voice playful.

Dean nodded, albeit rather weakly. "Yeah, I'll live. God that hurt, though."

"Sounded like it. Go lie down, will you." Sam unlocked the door and pulled it open. "I thing I'm going to study up on this some more, okay."

Dean sighed as he pulled off his boots. "Sure Sammy, just don't get too loud if you decide to take a break and download some porn, okay."

Sam grinned and shook his head. "Shut up, Jerk. Go to sleep, okay."

Dean had already crawled under the somewhat stiff motel covers. "Don't take a shower when I'm not awake, okay."

Sam gave him an odd look. "Are you still hung up on Psycho?"

"Yeah, I am. Now I'm going to sleep." He closed his eyes and forced his aching body to relax. Within ten minutes he was snoring in a rather loud, congested way.


	4. Chapter 4

-1Siren's Song

Disclaimer: Not mine, I'm not paid to do this.

A/N: Sorry this chapter's so short. The next one will be longer, I promise.

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Dean woke up to sunlight streaming over his face. He opened his eyes and saw Sam sitting on his still made bed. Dean sniffled and sat up, wincing a bit. "Hey, did you sleep last night?" He reached for the tissue box on the nightstand.

"No, not really." Sam sounded mildly distracted. "I read up on our new friends, though."

Crumpling his tissue in his hand, Dean gave Sam a sharp look. "I thought we talked about this whole, you not sleeping gig. Sam, it ain't healthy. you aren't doing yourself any favors by staying up all night, you know."

"I know. We talked, and we talked, but what we didn't talk about was the fact that you snore like hell when you're sick. You kept me up all night, so I figured I might as well make the most of it."

"I so don't snore." Came the all too quick protest.

"You wanna bet?" Sam got to his feet and cracked his back loudly. "I'm going to head down to the diner and get us some lunch, then tell you what I've learned. It's sort of interesting."

"Lunch? How long have I been out?" A frown flitted over Dean's face quickly.

"Well, it's about 11:30 and you fell asleep around 8 last night." He kept his voice glib.

"I'm really not that hungry, Sammy." He sniffled and rubbed at his nose, willing himself not to sneeze. It didn't really work, however. "_Hep-isshh-oo! Heh-chuu! Isshh-uu!_ Goddammit!" He pinched his nose softly.

"Bless. I'll be back." Sam grabbed the car keys and took off for the small diner that wasn't too far away from the only store in to the town.

Dean nodded and flipped on the TV, sighing softly. "Basic cable sucks all sorts of ass." After he decided that there was nothing good on TV, Dean allowed himself to doze off, if only for a little while.

He started awake when Sam walked in through the door, carrying a plastic bag. He took out a rather large paper bowl and plastic soup spoon and handed it to Dean. "Here you go. Chicken soup and crackers, best thing ever for a cold. I got you some OJ, too." When he'd started eating, Sam could tell that Dean was sicker than he let on, because he didn't even glance at Sam's thick cheeseburger and steak fries and hardly touched any of his own food. Sam raised an eyebrow. "Feed a cold starve a fever." He reminded Dean cheerfully.

"That is the single biggest load of bull crap in the English language. Everyone knows it, too." Dean picked up his bowl and took a few more bites, just to make Sam happy, however. "So, tell me what you learned last night."

"Well, Sirens are found in groups of two or three. And, as you know, they use their voices to bring sailors to their deaths. They've been in folklore for ages, and even though they've changed through the years, a few things have stayed the same. they still kill only men with their song. Women and animals either can't hear them, as those guys said, or they aren't effected by it. They still live on islands. Which makes sense. I mean, the Bermuda Triangle, all the cruise ship disappearances and fishing trips gone very wrong, even on calm water..."

"One thing, Sam, women have gone missing from those things too." Dean helped himself to a Kleenex and blew his nose, then moaned softly and touched his head. "I mean, if they can't hear them, then they should have been left strictly alone."

"People vanish from other things too, but when someone goes missing on the water, eight times out of ten, it's a man." Sam met Dean's watery red eyes. "I'm telling you Man, I'm on to something, here."

Dean nodded, giving up at last. "Fine, if it's Siren, or Sirens, how do they die?"

Sam bit his lip. "Someone has to hear their song and live to tell the tale."


	5. Chapter 5

Siren's Song

Disclaimer" Same as always. Don't own, I'm broke.

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Dean gave a short nod. "Alright, we'll get right on that." He closed his eyes and leaned against his pillows, rubbing his aching sinuses. "Question is, how?"

"That's pretty simple. One of us will have to go out there and listen to them sing without drowning ourselves."

"Right, and the other one of us will have to go along and make sure his brother doesn't die. Not quite sure how, though." He sniffled and rubbed at his temples.

Sam bit his lip. "Well, in one legend, the sailors used bee's wax."

"Bee's wax? I'm kinda willing to bet that there's not a surplus of that waiting to be stuffed in people's ears in a moment's notice. Besides, it's hard."

Sam smiled. "We have ear plugs nowadays."

"Earplugs yeah, but you can still hear through them." His eyes brightened a bit. "Okay, fine, let's get working on this." Dean was on his rather shaky feet and reaching for his beloved leather jacket before Sam could protest. "You coming?"

"Where are we going?"

"Well, that store rents boats. We'll get one for tomorrow, pick up a pack of earplugs and we'll be set."

Sam frowned. "This store rents boats?" He was back on his bed typing in a few things on his computer. "That's interesting."

"What's interesting? I swear you have the attention span of a moth." Dean sat back down on his bed and blew his nose.

"Well, the boats that were found, they were all rented. From the same place." He looked at Dean as if he'd blow open the whole case.

"Well, Sammy, it's not as if there were lots of other places to choose from. This is a small place with a freakin' big lake."

"Yeah, but there could be a reason that it was those people. Like, if someone knew they were going to be out there before they were actually out there, they could just wait for them."

"Whatever. I don't see that as much of a connection, but at any rate, we need to go. We're going out on that boat tomorrow." He got to his feet again and waved for Sam to follow, but stopped at the door to cough roughly, which brought on a sneezing fit. Hissing, Dean eased himself into the plastic chair right by the door. "Damn..."

If Sam hadn't been listening, he wouldn't have caught the complaint. "You gonna live?" He handed Dean the tissue box and waited for him to blow his nose again.

"Not dead yet." Dean forced a smile and got back on his feet, albeit somewhat slowly.

"Yet being the operative word." Sam muttered to himself, following Dean out the door.

For the third time in two days, Dean set foot in the small store. Sparrow, who had been cleaning the windows, took a few seconds to watch him, her keen eyes glowing, before she showed herself. She smiled at him. "Just can't stay away, can you, Dean." Her voice was relaxed and showed no sign that they had parted ways in anything but the best of terms.

"How's that? oh, yeah." He smiled back, more than willing to let bygones be bygones. Holding up a finger, Dean cleared his throat painfully before trying to really talk. "Well, you know, this is the only store around. I'm actually looking for earplugs."

A puzzled frown crossed her face. "Earplugs?"

"Yeah, my little brother, he seems to think I snore at night. Says he can't sleep."

"I see. The earplugs are right down there, next to the car air fresheners."

"Air fresheners? Huh, I wouldn't have found them in a million years." Dean flipped through the display, finding the most obnoxious color of pink, then took them up to the front and tossed them on the counter. He tried to summon his best "Lady's Man" smile, but set himself to coughing instead.

A tall figure stood at the door. "Dean, you rent that... damn..." Sam was at his brother's side quickly.

Sparrow gave him a small, false smile. "You must be his brother. I thought you'd be younger."

"Has he paid yet." Sam sounded rather exasperated and rolled his eyes. Dean seemed to have trouble forgetting that he was a grown man.

"No, Sammy, I didn't pay." Dean leaned against the counter top, catching his breath.

"Okay then, add a bottle of water to this, and we're gonna need to rent a boat for tomorrow, please."

An eager look flitted over her pretty face, making her look greedy, almost evil, but Sam was too busy keeping an eye on his brother to catch it. "Really? What time?" She had the boat log out quickly, and was leafing through it. "I need you to fill on of these out, if I can find it."

Dean's eyes grew huge as he focused on her hand. He took a deep breath, but didn't disturb Sam while he was writing. Instead, Dean fished out his own credit card and handed it to her. "Thanks. you ready to go, Sammy?"

"Um, yeah." He took the receipt, which he was to give to the man at the boathouse when they got there. "Dean, if you really feel the need to call me that, can't you at least wait until we're out of public?"

"Let's go, Sam." He sniffled and fairly collapsed into the passenger seat. "That Bird-like bitch! What the hell?!"

"Um, actually I think 'What the Hell' is my line. As in what the hell are you even talking about, Dean?"

Dean covered his mouth with his hands and went into another sneezing fit, which only seemed to make him more agitated. When he was done, he sniffled and gave his brother a weak glare. "You can't tell me you didn't see her hand, or rather, the feathers above her hand. They were under her sweat shirt."

"Bless you like a million times." Sam's voice was very worried and he reached to feel Dean's forehead again, only to be shoved off, again. "We're gonna get you back to the motel and you're gonna go right back to bed. You're... what... seeing things now?"

"I am _not_ seeing things, Sam, I swear to God, I'm not."

"Okay, Dean, you're not seeing things. Just try to relax."

"Will you stop treating me like I'm six years old and sick in bed? I went along with you about this whole crazy Siren thing to start with. How was I supposed to know it was gonna get very real? Just, listen to me, will ya?" There was something almost urgent in his voice.

Sam blinked, then nodded. "Okay, Dean, I'll listen to you, but you have got to lie down and take it easy while I do, deal?"

Dean sniffled, all the fight seeming to go out of him in one blow. "Deal." He unlocked the motel room door and sank down on his bed, rubbing his aching eyes. "You said that in some legends, they can turn from bird to chick, right?"

"Yeah." Sam busied himself by digging through the toiletry bag, looking for the thermometer.

"Well, they can, or at least, she can. She had feathers, Sam. I know it sounds crazy, but I swear to you she did."

"Feathers? So you said, but Dean, if she could change the way she looked, why didn't she change everything?" He found it and sat on Dean's bed.

"Get the hell away from me with that thing, Sam. I'm not delirious, I'm not even that sick."

"Can you just... damn it Dean, can you just let me find out for sure, please?"

"Will you believe me if I let you?"

"It would help."

Dean leaned against the head board and let Sam take his temperature, scowling up at him as he did so. "Well, am I healthy enough to trust my own eyes?"

His brother nodded, almost reluctantly. "Yeah, you're warm, but you aren't raging fever hot yet. Alright, so we have a good idea as to who's doing it, now we need to go stop them."

"That's an easy one, Sammy." Dean tossed the package of earplugs to him. "Those are yours."

"What do you mean, mine?" He threw them back. "I'm not the one who's wearing them."

Dean chucked them at Sam with more violence than was strictly necessary. "Yeah, you are. I'm gonna be the bait, Sammy."


	6. Chapter 6

Siren's Song

Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine.

A/N: I want to thank you all for the wonderful reviews. They really keep me working on this. Also, again, I'm sorry this chapter's so short. The next one'll be longer.

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Sam blinked. "You're temp must be higher than I thought if you think I'm going to let you be the one they sing to, Dean. Cause I'm not going to."

"You really don't have much of a choice, Sam. I'm doing this, and that's it." Dean sat up, ignoring the throbbing pain that exploded behind his eyes.

"No, you're not. It would be the most irresponsible thing in the world if I let you do this. You're..."

"I'm what, Sam? More into girls than you? Yeah, pretty much, but that's a given."

"I wasn't going to say that, Dean."

"What were you gonna say?" He reached for a tissue and wiped his nose in a pained way, wishing that they were doing anything but fighting right now, but if Sam wanted to start something, he sure as hell wasn't going to let him get away with it without a fight, cold or no cold.

"I was going to say that you're sick, Dean. you can't be the bait because you're sick."

"Come here, Sam." Dean waved him over to the bed. "I'm sick, that's why I have to do it. I'm only gonna say this once in our whole lives, and you will not repeat it, okay." He waited for his brother to nod. "Right now, you're a lot stronger than me, you could kick my ass into next week if you really wanted to, and you're gonna need to hold me back, because I'm pretty sure they don't rent boats that have masts that you can tie me up to anymore. And if it was you doing the listening, you'd be in that water so fast I couldn't rescue you, got it?" Sam nodded, and Dean went on. "So you're gonna put in those earplugs, put on your headphones and listen to that pussy-ass girl music you call rock full blast, and you aren't gonna let me go, no matter how hard I fight you. I can't say I'm not gonna try to hurt you, either, just, don't let go, okay."

Sam sighed and flopped down on the bed next to his brother. "I won't let go, I promise. Now that we have this straightened out, what next?"

"Next we figure out exactly how long I have to listen to that crap before it'll work and how you're going to snap me out of it and still manage to steer the boat."

"Well, one of the myths say that a man named Orpheus went with Jason and the Argonauts, and saved them by playing his harp and singing a song more inspiring and beautiful that the song the Sirens could sing."

Dean raised an eyebrow, an amused smile tugging at his lips. "You really are a geek, aren't you? Besides, I really hate to break it to you, Sammy, but I've heard you sing. The only thing your voice would inspire people to do would be to drown themselves more quickly, just to get away from it."

"Oh, that's just plain mean, Dude." Sam faked a look of hurt. "Besides, I wasn't talking about me singing to you, I was thinking more along the lines of you bringing your..." he swallowed as if the next word pained him to say, "Walkman."

"The question is still how am I going to put it on? I'm not going to be thinking clearly, I'm sure."

"We'll think about it, okay." Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. "Mean time, you want anything to drink or eat?"

"No, I'm good. I'm thinking I might get some sleep or watch some TV. Maybe both."

Sam nodded. "Between those two choices, I'd say you should sleep. You aren't looking all that well." A small, worried frown puckered his forehead.

"I'll live." Dean settled down and flipped on the TV. "For background noise."

Sam rolled his eyes and snagged a book he'd brought in from the car. "Whatever you want."


	7. Chapter 7

Siren's Song

Disclaimer: Same as other chapters, not mine, no money.

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Sam watched his brother doze off, then got to his feet. Dean would sleep for hours in the state he was in. He stretched and sat down on his bed after carefully prying the changer from Dean's loose grasp. There was no way in hell he was watching another rerun of American Gladiator if he had anything to say about it. Why would anyone even rerun that stupid show to start with? "For people like you." He said out loud, looking at his zonked out big brother. "I'm gonna go get some food and I'm gonna assume that you loved the soup I brought you and get you some more. Not that I expect you to answer me or anything like that." He put on his jean jacket and pulled the keys to Dean's precious Impala from the pocket. "You'd kill me if you knew I was keeping these." Dean made a gruff noise as a response. "I know how to get you to wake up. Not that I want you to wake up. Stay asleep, I'll be back." Sam walked through the door an hour later with the same type of take out boxes he'd had before.

Half an hour later, Sam set his box, which held a turkey sandwich and a baked potato, on the table and put his salad on top of it, then went to the bed across from Dean's and sat on the edge, staring at his brother, taking in the flushed cheeks and the paler than normal skin. How Dean always managed to look like complete crap whenever he was sick was beyond him. "Dean?" A gentle hand roused the man from his not so restful sleep, "Dean, you wanna wake up and eat some of this? It might help with the congestion."

"God, Sammy," the voice that answered was stuffy and much deeper than normal, "I was sleeping." Dean sniffled and sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He snatched a handful of Kleenexes and sneezed into them several times. "B-bad idea..." Dean blew his nose and touched his aching head. "I never knew sneezing could make your head explode."

"You learn something new every day," Sam replied, putting a healthy amount of dressing on his salad. "Seriously, are you gonna be up to this tomorrow?"

Dean nodded and sipped his hot soup. "Damn well have to be, want to or not. These chicks aren't just gonna shrivel up and die on their own. That would take all the fun out of this job." He snorted softly. "Wonder if any ghost's ever done that. Got sick of haunting things, so it led the way to it's own salt and burn."

"Dean..." Sam's eyebrow raised incredulously, "you make even less sense when you're sick than when you aren't."

"Hey, I was just thinking..."

"Don't think, it'll make your head explode a lot sooner than sneezing will. eat your soup and do something useful, like go to sleep again."

"You're the one that woke me up, Sammy-boy, you get to listen to me and my feverish rantings." A teasing smile played on his lips. "It'll serve as a reminder as to why you never wake me up when I feel like crap."

"Next time I'll let your soup get cold then." He made a face. "I have to say, those people do greasy and bad for you a lot better than they do health food. I swear this lettuce has been in the fridge for about a month." He sighed and tossed the salad into the trash can. "I should have gone with what I knew." Sam picked up the sandwich and bit into it after he'd pulled off all the wilting vegetables.

"Wrong time of year for them?" Dean set his half finished soup on the nightstand and pulled the covers up to his ears. "God, when did it get cold in here?"

"It's not... you just ate hot soup, how can you be cold?" Sam set down his food and was at his brother's side, resting a large hand on his forehead. "You're warm. We should call this..."

"We aren't calling anything off, Sam. Dad would have a fit if we left a job undone like this. People are dying and I'm not going to let something like a head cold stop me from stopping it."

_"What Dad doesn't know won't kill him."_ Sam thought to himself, but chose not to voice his opinion out loud right then. Instead he took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

Dean rested against the headboard of the bed and blew his nose loudly, then reached for the computer print outs that Sam had thought were important. "Do we need to go there at a certain time or anything? Ten's okay, right?"

Sam nodded and shoved the rest of his food into the trash. "Turkey tasted funny and the potato was underdone. Crappiest meal I never ate."

The comment raised a small smirk from his brother. "That was almost witty. Better watch it, Sammy, you might stat developing what they commonly call a sense of humor." Dean wiped his runny nose on a tissue in a pained way and watched his brother flop down on his own bed.

"There's a horror flick on TV, you wanna make fun of it?"

Dean's smirk grew wider. "Never thought you'd ask, Little Brother."

Dean fell asleep halfway through Jeepers Creepers, much as he didn't want to. Sam smiled and turned the volume down and finished the movie, laughing at the parts that were supposed to be scary. He sort of wished Dean had stayed awake through the whole thing, but at the same time, it was better that he was sleeping. Sam switched the channel to an older movie and eventually dozed off himself.

A few hours later, Sam jerked awake in a cold sweat. He sat up, his eyes large and shook his head to get the nightmare out. He looked over at Dean's bed and found it empty. A glance at the clock told him that it was 2:30 AM and a look out the window told him that it was raining... and his brother was an idiot, Sam wrapped a blanket around his shoulders. "Dean, what the hell are you doing out here? It's raining and cold."

Dean didn't look at him. "I'm thinking about stuff."

"Stuff? Dean, we have a long day ahead of us, I think you need to be at the top of your game."

Dean frowned and looked at Sam at last. "I don't need to be at the top of my game. Actually, I think I should be pretty much at the bottom of it. I mean, you're more than likely gonna have to hold me back tomorrow, Kiddo, I'd sort of like to be as worn down as I can be, ya know?" He sniffled, sneezed twice and then turned around to lean on the railing, tilting his head back to catch the rain on his warm forehead.

Sam sighed and turned around to lean on the rail too. "Still, when it's all said and done, I'd rather not have saved your life just to have you die of pneumonia a couple weeks later."

That argument was given all the respect it deserved, a snort, which turned into a coughing fit. If Sam had to guess, he'd swear the fit was more than a minute long. Sam patted his brother's back with a firm but gentle hand. "Yeah, because this is healthy. You're coming inside now." He took Dean's arm, slightly worried about the fact that it wasn't jerked from his grip, and led him into the room. "Lie down, I'm gonna take your temp again."

Dean sighed, but didn't protest. Frankly, he felt pretty bad. His head ached and his sinuses hurt, but he'd be damned if he was going to admit that to Sam. It was bad enough that he'd let him get all touchy feely outside. Another cough shot though his chest, although it didn't last as long or hurt as bad. Sam returned with the thermometer and held it out to him. "It's not gonna be accurate."

Sam frowned. "Why's that?" He sat down gingerly on the side of the bed, as if he was bracing himself to be pushed off. It would have happened too, had Dean felt up to it.

"I mean," Dean spoke slowly and stretched his eyes wide, as though he was talking to a child, "I'm having a hard time breathing through my nose."

"We can take it the baby way." Sam crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.

"Get the hell away from me!" Sam received the shove he'd been expecting, but fell off the bed anyway, mostly because he was laughing too hard to care about bracing himself.

"Well, are you going to let me do it this way, then?" A smirk played on Sam's lips as Dean held out his hand for the thermometer.

The minute felt like a year, but the thermometer finally beeped, letting both brothers know that it was done. Sam took it and let out a slow whistle. "It's getting up there. I still think we should..."

"No way, we're doing it and doing it tomorrow. You know we have to." Dean held up a finger and sneezed into his hands a few times, then sniffled deeply. "It'll be easier this way anyway. I won't fight you when I feel like crap. Not as hard, anyway. What is it, just out of curiosity?" He reached for the tissue box and blew his nose.

Sam bit his lip. "102.3" His voice said that he didn't want to tell him.

"What? That's not that bad. The way you acted, I thought it was 104, at least. You're such a drama queen."

"I was not that dramatic. I just said we should call it off and let you get a little better before we go traipsing around on a lake. Lakes are cold, Dean."

"And it's your job to keep me out of it. Are you saying in advance that I can't trust you with this?" He gave Sam a hard look, only half teasing.

"You know that's not what I'm saying, but, well, anything can happen out there. Besides, if you give in, the very last thing you'll have to worry about is gonna be a cold."

"So let me live to worry about a cold, okay. The longer we wait, the worse it'll be."

Sam sighed and finally nodded. "But if you hit me, I'm hitting you back, remember that."

Dean laughed in a congested way, then coughed. "Deal, now go try to get some sleep. I _do _need you at the top of your game, okay."

Sam nodded and climbed into his bed. "Don't stay up too late, okay."

"Yeah Dad, I'll remember that." He pulled out a car magazine and sighed, wishing he'd thought to grab something more, er, entertaining.


	8. Chapter 8

Siren's Song

Disclaimer: These characters are not mine, I'm just playing.

A/N: Thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews. This story has been a joy to write and it's nice to know that people are enjoying reading it too.

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Sam woke up at 7:30, which was down right sleeping in, for him. He stretched, thanking whatever god he believed in at the moment that he hadn't had yet another nightmare. Looking over at his brother, he smiled a bit and sat up. Dean had fallen asleep sitting up, the magazine still open on his legs. Sam reached over and carefully folded it up, then placed the back of his hand against Dean's forehead. He swore under his breath. "Jeez Dean, you're burning up."

"The hell are you touching me?" The question was slurred badly, and so congested that Sam hardly understood him. Dean opened red, watery eyes and looked at Sam, mutely demanding an answer.

"You're warm, Dean. Really warm. I just don't think this is the best idea you've ever had, you know."

Dean sat forward and coughed deeply, making Sam wince for him. When he'd finally caught his breath, he shook his head a bit. "I'll live, Sammy. I just wanna get this over with so I can enjoy my bad health without having chores hanging over my head. When this is done, I swear, I'm gonna hold up in a motel room for a few days at least and just veg." Actually, he doubted very much that he would have the time to do any such thing, but hell, a man can dream, can't he? "Maybe catch a Lakers game."

Sam snorted. "You hate basketball. You hate sports in general."

"The hell I do. What do you call what we do? Hunting is a very useful and honorable sport."

"Most hunters don't get hunted back. Besides, shouldn't you be more into the Outdoors chan…" He cut himself off as Dean started to cough badly. "Damn, where'd you put that Dayquil, Dean?" He stood up and found the bottle, then handed it out to his brother expectantly, only to have it brushed aside. "The hell's wrong with you?"

"You..." after a deep, shaky breath, Dean went on, "you know I can't right now. I'm not taking anything until we're done. You can hand me the Kleenex, though." He grabbed a handful and sneezed several times into them, then groaned as he rested his throbbing head against the headboard. "Goddammit."

Sam shook his head. "Bless you, I guess. This is crazy, you know that, right? Like, not even normal Dean type crazy, like... like Dad crazy."

Dean bristled a bit at the mention of their father, a touchy subject at the best of times. "Then I guess he taught me something right. Anything to get the job done."

"Anything including risking your health? That's not even normal, you know it and I know it."

"And since when did any of us have the pleasure of being normal? Hell, I bet you didn't even feel normal at that college of yours, did you?"

"We are not starting this up again, not now." Sam turned away, pissed off. "'I'm taking a shower, you should to."

"I will when you're done." He reached for his magazine then set it down, not really interested right then.

Sam came out a good twenty minutes later, the warm shower seeming to have restored his good humor. At least, it was restored unless Dean wanted to start something again.

Surprisingly, Dean just got to his feet and went toward the bathroom, a smile playing on his pale lips. "God Cinderella, did you leave any hot water for us common folk?"

Sam laughed and gave him the finger. "In case you haven't noticed, I have at least twice as much hair as you do."

"And yet, I still manage to be the good looking one."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Just get in there. And dry your hair off really well, God knows I don't need to risking yourself more by going out there with wet hair."

"You really buy into those old wives tales, don't you?" He closed the door and turned the shower on, as hot as he could stand it.

When the nice, warm shower had given out to lukewarm, the down right chilling streams of water, Dean left the bathroom, wrapping a towel around his trim waist. He dug through his not so tidy pile of clothes, then looked at his brother. "Hey Sam, you seen my sweatshirt?"

"What one?" Sam didn't look up from his laptop.

""The one I always wear when it's freezing... this one. Why the hell was it on your bed?"

"That's not you're sweatshirt, it's my sweatshirt."

"Dude, you're full of it. I've had this thing for months."

"You mean you stole it from my stuff the day after we left Stanford. It doesn't even fit you, it's too big."

"I happen to like my shirts a little on the big side, easier to work in."

"Yeah, me too. It's a little big for me, Dean." To prove his point, Sam snatched it out of Dean's hand and held it up against himself. "See."

Dean grabbed it back. "Sorry, you haven't convinced me. Maybe next time you should sew your name on the tag, like Dad used to have to do when we were younger and you started getting freakishly tall." He took his clothes back into the bathroom and got dressed, shivering as the cool air bit into his damp skin.

Sam turned back to his laptop, a small smile playing on his lips. The smile turned into a grin when Dean came out dressed in what was an undeniablely too big for him sweatshirt. The sleeves were rolled up and still went passed his wrists. The smile faded when he saw that Dean was shivering, in spite of the added layers. "You know, if you're sure you feel up to this, we should head out here pretty quick."

Dean coughed violently and sank down on the bed, his hands draped listlessly between his knees. "Sure, we'll go in a few." He sounded worn out.

"I wanna take your temp before we leave. You look like hell."

Dean shook his head in a tired way. "It won't make a difference. I'm doing this anyway and knowing what it is will only make it worse."

"You're freakin' impossible, you know that?" Sam sounded mild to moderately pissed off. "Last night you were all for making yourself feel worse."

"Oh for the love of... give it here, will you?" A hand reached out for the thermometer, which was handed to him with a smirk.

After the never-ending minute, Sam pulled the instrument from Dean's lips. "Damn, Dude, you're really warm."

"How warm is really warm?"

"103.3." Sam sat down next to Dean and looked at him hard.

Dean swore under his breath. "Yeah, that's pretty warm alright. My evil plan worked. Maybe a little too well. Well, I'm not getting anything done just sitting here. Let's head out." He moved to get to his feet, trying to look as if he didn't really care about the fact that he should be at the doctor, at least, trying to get himself better, rather than going out on a cold lake in early spring, trying to make himself worse.

Sam stood up first and offered Dean his hand. "Yeah, let's go." He didn't exactly expect Dean to take the hand, but he was going to make the gesture all the same.

True to form, Dean pushed the hand away. "I have a cold, I'm not a cripple."

"Okay, okay, you're not a cripple." Sam smothered a grin and followed him out to the car.


	9. Chapter 9

Siren's Song

Disclaimer: I wish I'd thought of this, but I did not, so I'm not paid for playing.

A/N: This isn't the last chapter, we still have one more after this one. I want to thank everyone who has read, reviewed, and/or put me on watch. It means a lot to me.

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Dean climbed into the passenger side of the Impala with an acceptance that worried Sam a lot. After riding shotgun for so long, he thought Dean would have at least tried to drive to the lake, if only to not have to listen to Sam's iPod and the music it held. True, Sam had had mercy on Dean and kept the music turned down, but normally, Dean still would have protested as badly as if Sam was blaring the theme song to Love Story. Sam jumped when Dean spoke up. "So, you ever work a boat before?"

"If I said no, would that make a difference?"

"Eh, you're a bright kid, you'll figure it out." He coughed and moved his forehead slightly against the window, trying to soak up the cool feeling from the glass.

"There's no way we're getting out of this, is there?"

"Nope, sorry. Besides, we already paid for the boat and we wouldn't want to disappoint our neighborhood Siren bitch, now would we?" He tried to give Sam a Dean like grin, but didn't quite make it. "You still have the receipt?"

Sam nodded and pulled out his wallet. "Yeah, I do." He parked the car at the top of the hill and make his way down to the boat house. He sighed and shook his head as Dean came down after him and leaned heavily against the wall of the shack, waiting for the man at the window to grab the keys and take them to their boat.

"At least they gave us one that's not going to capsize." Dean sounded very relieved as he looked down at the large, sturdy boat in front of him. "You ready Little Brother?"

"As I'll ever be, I guess." Sam took a breath and got behind it to shove it off. "Put this on." He held out a life vest to Dean.

"Are you serious? Dad made sure we knew how to swim almost as soon as you knew how to walk." Dean eyed the vest as if it were made of snakes.

"I know, and you're still wearing one. I'm wearing one too. This isn't exactly a pleasure trip, Dean. If you go in that water before I can grab you, you need something to keep you up."

"Everyone took these things off before they jumped, remember."

"Stop arguing and just put it on, please."

Dean sighed and pulled on the vest. "Alright, you have your iPod, right? And those earplugs?" Sam held up both. "Okay, then get them in and let's get this show on the road." Dean coughed rather badly and spat something over the side.

"You're disgusting, you know that?" Sam turned on his music before Dean could respond.

After fifteen minutes or so, the air around Dean started to feel very heavy, hot almost. He wiped his forehead and moved to take off his life vest. He didn't need it, after all, he knew how to swim. Sam grabbed his wrist and raised an eyebrow, shaking his head. Dean scowled, but didn't fight him. At least, not until he heard... it.

It was the most beautiful song he'd ever heard in his life. Not just the sweet voices, although those alone were enough to peek his interest. The words promised him anything he wanted, if he would just come and stay with them on the island. Dean turned his head to the right and fixed his eyes on three of the most breathtaking women he'd ever seen. They were dancing, beckoning him to come to them. And would he ever go to them! He moved to follow where the voices led, but something held him back. Frowning, he looked down to see his brother's arms around his waist and shoulders. The boat, while left to itself, was drifting farther away from where Dean knew he needed to be. It didn't matter, he could swim. if he could just get away from Sam. "Sammy, let me go, will ya. I'm just gonna go talk to them." Hell, maybe spend the rest of his life with them, if all went well. If all went the way they assured him it would go. "Sam, get off." Dean was struggling more now, he'd almost... no, Sam still had too tight a hold on him. Dean pulled, prodded and jerked to free himself, but it just wasn't working. As a last ditch effort, he reached down and sank his teeth into Sam's arm, not quite breaking the skin, but hard enough to bring a shout of pain to his ears. The cry shook him out of his stupor just a little bit. Not enough to keep him from wanting to go to the Sirens, but enough to know that he'd hurt his brother. The one person he was never supposed to hurt. He looked into Sam's white face, his eyes pleading, telling him mutely to let him go. He didn't want to hurt Sam, he just wanted to be allowed to go.

Sam bit his lip and studied his brother's crazed eyes. He was a lot more flushed than he had been that morning, and it wasn't from the fever. Sam shook his head again and pulled his brother into a tight, almost choking hug. "I think we can go now." His voice was louder than he meant it to be, because the Sirens, unwilling to let their prey leave, picked their own song up a notch. They sang of heart's desires, of wisdom, of joy, anything to keep Dean's focus on them, rather than what he should be doing. Dean struggled and fought hard, almost breaking free of Sam once or twice. Sam held him tighter, fearing that he was going to cut off his brothjer's air supply if Dean fought much more. Sam eased himself against the motor, turning the boat from the island with his elbow.

Finally, the voices faded from Dean's ears and were replaced with an unearthly screech that made his head explode with pain. He tried to cover his ears, but Sam had his arms pinned so tightly that all he could do was listen. The screech ended, but still echoed through to open lake. Dean collapsed against Sam's shoulder weakly and coughed. He felt drained, as if he'd been running a marathon without any breaks. Sam looked down at him. "Are we good?" All Dean could do was nod. He felt as if he was going to be sick. Not only that, but he felt worse than before. He was sure his fever was higher than it had been when they left that morning and he wasn't sure he could make it back to the car without passing out.

Sam took out his earphones and gave his brother a very dirty look. "Dude, what the hell did you have to go and bite me for?" He pitched the earplugs in the trashcan before handing his rental pass over to the man at the boat house. Only then did he notice how sick Dean looked. With one fluid motion Sam's arm was under Dean's shoulders and he was helping him up the hill, disturbed that his brother wasn't protesting. He rested a hand on his brother's brow. "Oh God, you're burning up."

"Feels good. Sammy? I have a headache." Again, Dean's voice was slurred, but there was a weakness to it that Sam hadn't heard before.

"I bet you do. You're going right to bed and you're sleeping until I say you can wake up, you hear me? Tomorrow I'm going to go see if all is right with the world." He got Dean into the car and didn't talk again until they were back in their motel room. When he'd gotten his brother back in bed and given him a healthy dose of pain killers and Dayquil, Sam sat down on the edge of the bed and took Dean's temperature again, this time without a fight. "The thing that's bugging me though?" He frowned and stared at the wall, "is why were there three of them. I mean, I know what the myth said, but I thought Sparrow was the only one."

Dean shook his head and waited for Sam to take out the thermometer before answering. "She told me the other day she had a sister, and talked about how her mother loved birds. That must have been them. Weren't the beautiful?" He sounded groggy, his voice was thick with sleep and congestion.

"Not really. They looked like normal women to me." Sam shrugged, figuring that optical illusions were another way to lure people in. "You sleep and let those meds do their job. You're hanging steady at 103.3 and I'd rather you not get any sicker, or I'll have to take you to the doctor."

Dean closed his eyes and felt his body drift off. Sure, he didn't really want to go back and try to find those women, now that he was away from them, but they sure sang nice anyway.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: same old, same old. I wish I was smart enough to write a show like this.

A/N: This is the final chapter. It was a lot of fun to write and I hope to write another one here pretty quick, if my muse allows.

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Sam walked into the motel room, looking more cheerful than he had in days. The sun was streaming into the room, lighting it up briefly. "Hey Dean, I'm back." He forgot to lower his voice.

Dean raised his stuffy, aching head and glared at Sam with an evilness that might have frightened a kitten. "Dude, close that damn door, will you? God, I feel like I've been drinking all night, only without the underlying happiness of knowing that I got laid at some point. What the hell are you so giddy about anyway? Where'd you go?"

"I don't do giddy, Dean, but I did swing by that store, and the manager said Sparrow was set to work today, but she didn't show. Didn't even call in. He was out and out pissed, can't say that I blame him, really. So I rented a boat again and went out to that island, to see for myself. Before you ask, yes, I wore earplugs and my iPod, just in case. I walked all over that place before I found three dead birds. I've never seen any bird like that before, though. Not even in books. They were beautiful, but damn freaky looking, too. Believe it or not, they weren't big at all. About the size of your average songbird."

Dean seemed to be following Sam pretty well, in spite of the migraine he was nursing and the fact that his cold was about ten times worse than it had been. "So it worked? Huh, cool, I guess." He buried his face into his pillow, unable to hold his head up any longer. "God damn me..."

Sam sat down on his own bed and braced his knees against the side of Dean's. Very gently, he eased a hand under Dean's cheek and had him look at him. "You still feel pretty dragged down?" His eyes were worried and he rested a cool hand against his brother's hot forehead.

"That, Little Brother, is a sever understatement. The most sever understatement I think I've ever heard, in fact." He pulled away and grabbed a wad of tissues to sneeze into, then he blew his nose weakly. Damn it, even that made his head feel as if it were going to explode. He swore under his breath.

Sam winced in sympathy. "You know, I was thinking. Maybe you killing them had some weird side effects. You told me about how you heard them scream, right?" He bit his lip as Dean nodded very slowly, miserably. Maybe they gave you this headache, something as a parting gift."

"Bitches, every single one of them. I didn't even talk to the other two."

"Well, looks like you're gonna get your wish after all." Sam felt around the truly cluttered bedside table, looking for the thermometer.

"What does that mean?" Dean sniffled a bit and squinted up at him.

"You said when this was over you wanted to stay in a room for a few days. So we're gonna stay for a week or so and try to get you better." He found the instrument and held it out to his brother.

Dean opened his mouth to protest that he really didn't need that break, but closed it quickly. That actually sounded very appealing. "If you really want to, I guess I could live with that. You think the Lakers are playing?" He took the thermometer and poked it under his tongue.

Sam snorted and shrugged. "Could be. You want some food?"

Dean nodded, but motioned that Sam waited until he could talk before he left. After Sam had checked the reading and sighed heavily, he looked at his brother, giving him the go ahead.

"You feed me soup again, I'm gonna hurl."

Sam smiled to himself and shook his head. "Fine, no soup, but it's still the best thing..."

"Don't you dare finish that sentence. You're too young and too male to be an old wife. Get me a burger if you're gonna get me anything at all."

Sam raised an eyebrow and sighed, shaking his head. "Your funeral, I guess." Half an hour later, he came back with identical take out boxes. "There, two cheeseburgers and two orders of fries."

Dean managed a very weak smile. "Wish I could smell it."

To his credit, Sam didn't say one word when Dean didn't even finish a third of his food. He just took the box and set it aside before pulling the covers around Dean's shoulders and resting a comforting hand on his forehead again. "Night Big Brother." He grimaced as Dean started to snore, then flicked on the TV. "What's the saying, a hundred channels and still there's nothing on?"

The only answer he got was a cough, followed by another snore.

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by the end of the week, Sam was ready to kill his brother, steal the Impala and run away. To say that Dean was a bad recovering patient would be putting it too mildly. After two or three miserable, achy, feverish days, Dean was starting to feel a little bit more like his old self. The headache he'd been suffering from finally went away and his fever broke, leaving a sick man who was seriously sick of being sick. True to form, as soon as Dean was starting to feel a little better, he was ready to hit the road, even though his body wasn't quite ready to let him. Sure, he wasn't running a fever anymore, and he could cough or sneeze without jarring his head, but he still tired easily and was, whether he wanted to admit it or not, very weak from his ordeal. So, instead of leaving, he complained. He complained that he was bored, that he was stir crazy and that he really didn't like basketball as much as he thought he did.

But Sam was true to form as well. He made Dean wait the week out, if only to make sure that he wasn't going to relapse into pneumonia, as he'd done once when they were kids.

On the seventh day, Sam woke up to Dean standing over him, grinning. "Let's go, Sammy, we're burning daylight."

"Jeez Jerk, let me wake up first. Since when do you wake up before me, anyway? How you feeling?"

"Since you've been forcing me to sleep all the freaking time. It catches up with you after a while, you know. I feel fine, well, a lot better, anyway. Go take a shower."

Sam came out of the bathroom and scowled at his brother when he looked at what he was wearing. "Dude, that is so my sweatshirt. I bought it with my own money at school."

"Dude, no, it really isn't. I've had it for months. You ready to go?"

"And if I say I'm staying right here until I get my shirt back?"

"Then I'll say that I'm leaving your ass here. I'd do it too."

"You would not." Sam did get to his feet, however.

"Give me my keys. My baby missed me. And she got tired of your granny driving and girl music."

Sam took the keys out of his pocket, but seemed a little doubtful. "You sure you're up to driving her? You still look a little crappy."

"I feel fine. Fine enough to drive, anyway."

"I just don't want you to sneeze and have us meet our maker way too early or something."

"Screw you. Give me my keys. Or do I have to go hotwire her?"

Sam grinned and tossed him the keys, rather impressed that he caught them. "Should I let you two have a few minutes alone before I come out there?"

"You really wanna be left behind? I, for one want to put this place in the rearview and never come back here again."

Sam got into the car. "Sounds like a plan to me." He gave Dean a sideways look. "So, what would you say if I told you there was a Cyclopes sighting a few towns over?"

"I'd ask you what a good little law student was doing smoking crack, and why he didn't share with his big brother."

Sam snorted and stared out the window. "Wake me up if you need a break."

"Sure, but I won't want one. Not for a long time."

End

A/n: Well, it's done now. Thanks again to all who read, reviewed, put me on watch and even favorited this story. It all meant a lot to me. I hope you liked it. ML


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